


dreams like nightmares

by quakeriders



Series: feysand tumblr prompt fills [16]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst and Porn, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mating Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 22:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: For a few heartbeats Feyre didn’t understand why she had woken up in the middle of the night. Her mind was calm and for once, she hadn’t been plagued by nightmares. Still, her body was tense and something tugged at her chest.anon prompt: Feyre thinks Rhysand is having another nightmare because he is all tense through the bond but when she goes to his room, he’s actual dreaming about her and sexy times ensue.





	dreams like nightmares

For a few heartbeats Feyre didn’t understand why she had woken up in the middle of the night. Her mind was calm and for once, she hadn’t been plagued by nightmares. Still, her body was tense and something tugged at her chest.

Once the fog of sleep lifted from her mind, she understood what it meant.

_Rhysand_.

It wasn’t like the last time. The nightmare hadn’t seeped from his mind and formed real mist and shadows that whirled and swirled through the house. No, this was different. Instead of the pain and terror, something burning and urgent pulled at her.

Still, if she felt it so strongly that Rhys must be unable to get out of it himself.

Feyre threw back her covers, almost tripping over her slippers as she made her way out of her bedroom and down the hall towards his bedroom.

His door was closed, no shadows seeping from inside. She hesitated for one breath and then Feyre knocked on the door.

“Rhys?”

No reply. That tug grew stronger and a shiver ran down her back, raising the hair on her arms.

“Rhysand?” Feyre asked again, louder and knocked again.

Her throat closed up as the feeling grew and she threw caution to the wind and opened his door. Rhysand was lying facedown on the large bed, his wings stretched wide and hanging off the sides of the bed. His covers pooled at his hips and Feyre could see the muscles of his back ripple as he let out a low groan. His body shifted on the bed and he let out another groan, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

She didn’t think. She didn’t even form a single coherent thought before she was kneeling on the bed next to him, reaching for his shoulders.

His skin was hot and a thin layer of sweat coated him. The moment her fingers brushed against him, he let out another groan. Low and deep. It sent another shiver through Feyre and she bit down on her bottom lip. Hard.

“Wake up, Rhys.” Feyre called out to him, trying to turn him around. He was a heavy weight and with his wings it was nearly impossible for her to move him. “Rhysand!”

She gripped him harder, tried to flip him on his back but Rhys strained against her hold. Still his face turned towards her, his nostrils flaring and when he let out another groan, Feyre could feel the vibrations in her gut.

_Rhys. You need to wake up._ She shot the thought down the bond, standing outside his shields and banging on them, looking for a crack to slip through. His shields were up and as impenetrable as always, but as she ran her mental claws down them, the feeling of him wrapped around her tightly.

He had never done something like this before. He pulled her into his mind, his own mind curling around hers tightly and once she was inside, her breathing hitched.

She expected him to have a nightmare. To be trapped in his own personal hell and reaching out to her for comfort. But what she found instead was white-hot and desperate for something else.

And his mind was open, she could hear him thinking; remembering the feeling of her skin against his fingers, how it had felt to hold her or how the smell of her made him feel.

And throughout it all, a single word echoed through his mind.

Just a word.

A name.

Hers.

_Feyre. Feyre. Feyre. Feyre. Feyre._

She felt his want, his desire, his… love.

_Rhysand-_

Strong, calloused fingers wrapped around her wrists and just like last time, she was flipped onto her back. Her head hit the pillow and suddenly all she could see was Rhysand.

His eyes were open, pupils blown wide, nostrils flaring as he breathed her in.

“Feyre.” His voice was nothing but a purr. His eyes flicked down to her lips and back to her eyes.

She swallowed hard, there was no mistaking the hunger in his face. She would have recognized it even if she hadn’t been in his mind and had seen it for herself.

And now that she had been inside his head, she could feel how he restrained himself from burrowing his face into her neck and breathing in her scent. How even though he was on top of her, his body did not press into her, like he so desperately wanted to. Ever nerve in his body was begging for her touch and she didn’t understand how he could hold back. How he could stop himself from touching her.

“Rhys.” She whispered. She reached for his shoulders, feeling him shuddering beneath her touch. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him down towards her, guiding his face into the crook of her neck.

Feyre felt his body go pliant and hard at the same time, felt the tension ease and ratchet up. His nose and mouth were hot as he inhaled her scent, gripping the sheets beside her body tightly.

“Shh,” Feyre softly cooed, one hand running through his hair, while the other held onto his back. She could feel him shudder again and again, Feyre felt that explosion of need from behind his shields. She had never felt anything like that before and her body was reacting to it.

Her own breathing grew ragged and a warmth spread through her center, causing her to spread her legs and let Rhys slip into the space she created for him. 

“Touch me.” She whispered to him, running her own hand down his arm and gripping his hand. She gently pried his fingers from the sheets and placed it on her waist. “Rhys, touch me.”

Slowly, his fingers dug into her soft flesh and with a groan, he began kissing her neck. His lips and teeth and tongue a balm to the heat that pounded inside her. She encouraged him by saying his name softly, then more urgently. Her own hands ran up his back and then she was gripping his face, pulling him up.

Their eyes met. His pupils were still blown wide, the midnight blue of his eyes almost invisible. She swallowed at the sight of him and then her eyes dropped to his lips and when she looked back at him, there were no doubts in her mind. She surged upwards and pressed her lips to his.

For a split second, Rhys remained frozen and then his own lips moved against hers and his hands slipped up and down her sides. The kiss was hungry, desperate and somehow it felt like a claiming - only that Feyre couldn’t tell who was claiming who.

His body, hard and hot, pressed more firmly into her and she let out a groan and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. Rhys growled her name against her lips and heat pooled at her core. His fingers brushed her cheeks, traced her jaw and down her neck.

Feyre wanted more. She dragged her nails down his back, pulling him closer to her now burning core. He obeyed her silent command without breaking their kiss. Rhys began to slowly grind his hardness against her and Feyre let out a moan that was swallowed by him.

Suddenly, it felt as though she couldn’t touch enough of him, couldn’t feel enough of him. That no matter how close they were, it would never be enough. That feeling made her want to scream, to claw at him until she could fit herself into his body and never be parted from him. That thought left her breathless and the world began to slip away.

“Rhysand.” She gasped, digging her nails in deeper. “Rhysand, please.”

She didn’t know what she was begging for, didn’t care that she was even begging. All she knew was that she needed something and that he was the only one who could give it to her.

“Feyre, Feyre, Feyre.” Rhys breathed, sounding just as desperate as she did and when he pressed his cock into her heat and began moving his hips, something exploded behind Feyre’s eyes.

She let out a sound that was wild and guttural and unhinged and then she knew what she needed. She needed him. Needed him to be inside her, to take her and to hold her until the world felt right again.

But all she could say was, “Please, please, please.”

He seemed to understand her anyway. And when he was tugging at her clothes, Feyre wanted him to stop wasting time, to just rip them off of her and to just feel his skin pressing into hers.

He was already naked and once he had pulled her pants down, Feyre wrapped her legs around him, flipping them in a maneuver she had just recently learned.

With her legs on either side of him, and her hair draping down one shoulder to meet his chest, Feyre reached for his hardness and with an urgency she had never felt before, lowered herself onto him. Rhys’ hands gripped her hips tightly, helping her and when he nudged at her entrance, both of them let out groans that might have been able to shake the earth.

It felt like nothing, she had ever known. Felt like some part of her had been missing and she had finally found it. As she slipped down and adjusted to his length inside her, Feyre closed her eyes and held onto his shoulders.

Rhys was saying something, his voice rough and breathless, but Feyre was too far gone to hear him.

Until that was, Rhys sat up, causing him to slide even further into her and then wrapped his arms around her back. They began moving, their bodies pushing and pulling until all Feyre could hear was their ragged breathing and the sound of their skin coming together. She still held onto his shoulders, but her moans had turned from pleasured groans to desperate pleas. She was so close, feeling that tightness in her growing ever closer and it felt as though she might burst out of her skin, as though there would never be something that felt as heavenly as this.

She opened her eyes and found Rhys looking up at her. His brow was slick with sweat, hair clinging onto it and his pupils were still blown wide. But beneath that desire, she saw a tenderness that cracked her heart wide open. She let out a breath that turned into a sob and to stop herself from crying, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him until both of them were breathless.

Rhysand held her tight, moving in and out of her in a pace that was sure to drive her mad and when at last it felt as though she would die from this pleasure, something inside of her snapped and she came, biting his bottom lip until he hissed and she felt warmth spill into her.

Rhys fell back to his pillows, and with his arms still tightly wound around her, he took Feyre down with him. She lay there, atop him, struggling to catch her breath for a long while.

Slowly, the sounds of the world came back to her. Slowly, she could hear more than just their own hearts beating.

She began to hear the birds chirping outside, could hear the distant sounds of people waking for the day and when she blinked open her eyes, she could see the first rays of the sky dusting the horizon.

And with that, she snapped out of her haze and turned to look at the male, who lay still beneath her.

Their eyes met. His once again violet and full of tenderness and hers wide and -

The world tilted. All the sounds and sights and smells that had returned to her bleed together and faded away. For in that moment, all she could see and hear and feel was him.

Him.

Her mate.

Rhys looked at her like she might be his entire world and in that moment, it certainly felt as though he was hers.

**Author's Note:**

> how many times can i make them have angsty sex and have the mating bond kind of sort of snap into place?
> 
> or the real question is: how many more of these can you handle?


End file.
